


The Red Words of the Winchester Gospel

by SC_ript



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Divergent, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Coda, Confessions, Episode Fix-It: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Jack Kline Saves Castiel from the Empty, Jack Kline is God, M/M, Post-Season/Series 15, Reunions, Team Free Will (Supernatural), good things do happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:40:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28515834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC_ript/pseuds/SC_ript
Summary: After everything, Dean found the answer was as simple as reaching out a hand and feeling a shoulder return to being beneath his fingertips.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 13
Kudos: 113





	The Red Words of the Winchester Gospel

After everything, Dean found the answer was as simple as reaching out a hand and feeling a shoulder return to being beneath his fingertips.

* * *

Jack stepped forward, and when he did, he felt the road at his feet, and the sun on his skin, and the sky above him, all around, and within him, too. 

He was all of three years — but the millenniums whispered to him, in the wind, and thrummed at his core. 

There had been questions, once. Flowing forever out of him, with their light joys and discoveries and uncertainties. 

_Why?_ He had wanted to know. _And how? Why?_

_What’s the point?_ He had asked Castiel, his father. His son. 

Now he heard it, echoed back to him, rushing to him and washing over him. Billions of souls, of sons and daughters, bending to him, reaching for him, on their knees. Languages lost their barriers and carried the words to him over lands and time. Centuries of humanity, then and now and to be, holding their hands to the sky.

_My children_ , he thought.

_Why?_ They prayed. The same question, the first question, the only question. _Why?_

He felt the answer, too, as only he could feel it and know it and share it.

_Why?_ They asked.

And the sun shone brighter.

_Why?_ They pleaded.

And the rain poured down.

_Why?_ They yearned.

And the mountains grew and the seas met the sand and the stars filled the sky with stories.

Still, they asked.

_Why?_

And he sent himself to the ground and he bled and he tried to say _I have the answer_ and _this is the answer_ and _you will find your answers_.

And the sun shone brighter and the rain poured down.

Jack had been without a soul before; now, he felt all souls surround him, fill him, flow from him. He felt their pains and their joys, and he knew their memories and their loves as his own most intimate wishes. It poured out from him, brimming over. He stood as the overflowing cup, love for his creations — for now they were _his_ creations — welling through and from him.

He was the Father, and he had had a father in Castiel, and now he felt the love of a father and his father’s love all at once.

Castiel had had questions, too. 

_I have questions, I have doubts._

Somewhere, though, God’s shield had stopped asking _why_ , in the years since his fall, since his abandonment, since his resurrection. Since the sear of a soul, burning into him, into his grace, and the reflection of that righteous fire on the left shoulder of Dean Winchester. _Why?_ At some time, somewhere, Castiel looked over, he saw Dean Winchester, and he thought, _Because_.

_Because of you._

_You changed me, Dean._

Dean Winchester. The Righteous Man. The Sword. The Son and the Brother. Unyielding.

_I believe there is a God. But I’m not sure he still believes in us._

There were people, moving, going, passing by. A world, bustling, asking, questioning, living again. And there were two brothers, and a car, and a Father. 

_But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero? Why do we have to sacrifice everything, Dad?_

_My son_ , Jack thought, as Dean stood before him, firm and determined. _You are so loved._

“You got a lot of people counting on you,” Dean said. “People with questions, they’re gonna need answers.”

Jack saw him, and loved him, and knew his questions, and shared his pain, and felt his love. 

_I don’t know why I get so angry._

Dean, his humanity, gripping tight to its love, pushing at Jack, at it all, demanding, always demanding, _Why?_

_Why are you telling me this now?_

_Why does this sound like a goodbye?_

_Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?_

Jack answered, and he said, “Those answers will be in each of them.”

And the sun shone brighter.

He watched Dean and he watched Sam.

He saw Sam’s life, like a long road, stretching out. He heard Sam’s own questions, not _why_ , but _when_. Jack saw all that was and had been and would be. Eileen, and a bunker of friends, a home, and children. Jack heard the _when_ and felt Sam’s will, and thought, _Your will be done_.

He saw Dean’s life, as well.

_What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?_

“I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that, when people have to be their best, they can be. And that’s what to believe in,” Jack said.

Dean was a pillar; his arms hung heavy at his sides.

_I know who you love, what you fear._

Jack said, “Dean, I know your belief. Reach out your hand. Let your will be done.”

Dean paused, and Jack felt his questions. 

_This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith._

But Dean’s hand lifted, and reached, and gripped tight, until it settled on the shoulder of an old friend.

There, Castiel, rising again, steady beneath the hand of Dean Winchester.

There was a becoming, a forgiveness, a confession. For a brief instant, Jack heard no prayers. Earth stood still and Heaven looked down and Hell went silent. Purgatory folded in on itself. The Empty bowed back into nothingness, into sleep. And all of Creation turned their gaze from the divinity. 

Sam inhaled, and then he cried. It was too much to behold. To stand witness to such devotion, and such Beginning. 

Jack’s being, his power, that all encompassing love, embraced before him. 

_My children._

“Cas,” Dean said, pulling him in. _Cas._ His voice was a prayer, a question, and an answer, all at once. It was a word of faith.

_Good things do happen._

“Dean,” Castiel breathed. _Dean._ And it was an answer, but it was also a choice.

Jack felt their will wash over him. 

And he smiled, and saw, and knew that it was good.


End file.
